Spelling Words
I remember you, cousin, speaking
spelling words with your face
pressed up against the fan,
voice distorted, spelling back to
Grandpa while I sat, impatient,
on the couch next to him
Say, first friend
Say, shared swing, backyard, playgrounds,
Say, the time we got the fake dog shit
thought it would be funny if my dad thought it was real
but it wasn’t
because he yelled at the dog until I told him the truth
horrified at what we’d caused
Say, I’m sorry I copied everything you did
Say, Grandpa still loves you but he won’t be visiting anymore
Define shunning to a twelve-year-old
define betrayal, define
forgiveness, but not until I’m eighteen
Say, I was at his bedside as the life left him
anyways.
I couldn’t not be
but we all made different choices
I must believe you were still in his heart,
even then
even after all those years
I have to believe
he just didn’t have the words
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Grace Moore is a writer from Washington. She writes fiction, creative nonfiction, and the occasional poem. She also writes articles on travel, mental health, writing, and books. Sometimes she’s funny, or at least that’s what her mom says. Follow her on Instagram @gracieawriter.
